


Carry On

by celeste9



Category: Primeval
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gift Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ditzy tries to remind Becker that everything isn't lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fififolle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fififolle/gifts).



> For fififolle's birthday, as she once mentioned a desire for more of these two in this 'verse. Basically an epilogue to Fracture. Contains discussion of prior major character death. Ditzy belongs to fredbassett, who also did the beta.

Abby was crying.

She’d been crying for hours. Becker had looked at her, feeling like he might break in half just watching her, but was unable to do anything for her. He wanted to go to her, to do something, anything, to stop her falling apart because Abby was strong, no matter what, she always kept going, and watching her like this was almost too much.

But instead he just watched her because he couldn’t think of a fucking thing to do. He didn’t know how to comfort another person when his insides felt hollow, when he couldn’t see a way forward even for himself.

Instead it was Ditzy who went to her. Ditzy, who always knew what to do. He sat with her while she cried and he didn’t even say anything. He sat with her and Abby cried, and then she leaned into his chest and Ditzy held her, rubbing circles on her back and stroking his fingers down the back of her neck.

Ditzy got her to eat something, a few bites she managed to keep down, and then he made her lie down. Becker wondered if she’d be able to sleep at all, or if she’d just lie there with her wet cheeks and her memories.

Becker knew he wouldn’t sleep but he was also certain he didn’t want to. He thought it was better to be awake and haunted than asleep with his nightmares. When he was awake he could see Connor’s broken body behind his eyes, but if he slept, Connor would join the accusing crowd of faces Becker hadn’t been able to save.

“Becker,” came Ditzy’s soft voice and the touch of his fingers to Becker’s shoulder, enough to make him flinch.

He turned, forcing himself to face the concern in Ditzy’s brown eyes. “What do you want?”

“I want to know when the last time you ate something was.”

“I don’t know, this morning, I guess.” Connor had still been alive the last time Becker ate. They’d shared a tin of fruit and Becker had picked out all the peaches to give to Connor.

Ditzy frowned.

“Don’t mother me, Ditzy, I’ll eat when I’m hungry, okay?” He’d eat when he thought he wouldn’t puke it all back up.

“I wouldn’t mother you if I was convinced you could take care of yourself. I’m not convinced.”

“Well, that’s just too fucking bad, isn’t it?” He must have said it louder than he’d meant to because he could feel the eyes on him, everyone staring, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about much of anything, really.

Except for how Connor was dead. He cared a lot about that.

“Lower your voice,” Ditzy said.

“Why? I don’t care who hears.”

“Because you’re a mess,” Ditzy said, keeping his voice low. “These people look to you, Becker, and you can’t let them see you like this.”

“I never asked for that! I never asked for any of it!”

Ditzy’s echoing response was clearly intentional. “That’s too fucking bad. You’re our commanding officer, like it or not, and if you fall apart, they all will. They all will, Becker.”

And Becker knew he was right. He didn’t have the luxury to grieve, to give in to his emotions, not unless he wanted Connor’s fate to befall them all. 

He was pretty sure it would anyway, no matter what he did, but he wasn’t about to let it happen now, because he was too weak to keep his feelings to himself. They were all going to die, that much was obvious, but he wouldn’t let it be because of his own fucking emotions.

“Fine,” he said. “Fine, then. I’m fine.”

“It’s okay to not be fine. Just... be not fine somewhere else.”

Sometimes Becker truly hated that expression on Ditzy’s face, that calm, cool concern. “No, it’s okay.”

“It isn’t. It never will be. Becker, just...” Ditzy’s gaze flickered, his eyes scanning the room. “Here, come with me, will you?”

“So you can have sex with me again?” Becker asked, one half of his mouth tilting upwards even in spite of everything.

“If you’re lucky,” Ditzy said. He went over to the windows to murmur a few words to Finn, who was on watch and smirked absurdly at them, and then led Becker outside the flat and down the hall to another door, another abandoned flat.

Becker stood in the middle of the lounge and crossed his arms. “Okay, we’re here. So now what? What am I supposed to do?”

“Whatever you want to do. That’s the point.”

“What if what I wanted was to punch you in your stupid sodding face?”

Ditzy’s mouth twitched. “Go ahead and try. See how far you get.”

Becker huffed out a breath that wanted to be a laugh but didn’t quite succeed and went over to slump his back against a wall. “This is stupid. Just let me fuck you or something.”

“Not really into sympathy shags, sorry.”

“Really? Then what do you call what we’ve been doing?”

“Mostly I consider it my version of therapy, to keep you from offing yourself.”

That time Becker actually did laugh. “You clearly take your duties very seriously.”

Ditzy shrugged. “I’m incredibly self-sacrificing. I suspect it’s simply my nature.”

“Yes, I could tell you weren’t enjoying yourself at all.”

“Perhaps we could try again later. I might enjoy it then.”

The ‘later’ part seemed to stick out. “So that’s still a no on skipping the talking and going straight to the shagging?”

Ditzy’s gaze made Becker feel uncomfortable and he had to look away. Then Ditzy moved closer, leaning his back against the wall next to Becker. That made everything much easier, as Becker was no longer expected to actually look at him. “It wasn’t your fault, you know.”

“Just… just don’t. Please? Don’t.”

“What do you want me to do?” Ditzy asked, sounding irritated. “Do you want me to blame you? Curse at you, maybe scream a little? Will that make you feel better?”

“Probably not,” Becker admitted. As hard as Ditzy tried, Becker didn’t think anything could make him feel better.

“I don’t know what I can say that I haven’t already said.”

“Don’t say anything at all, then. I can go for that.”

For a little while, Ditzy did actually stay quiet. Then he said, “I’m not sure this counts as helping.”

Becker felt rather like pulling his hair out. “Why? Why do you have to? Why are you so bloody intent on it? I don’t know why you can’t leave it be.”

“Because I care about you,” Ditzy said, and that certainly shut Becker up. “I’ve never lied about that.”

Becker stared down at the floor. “You shouldn’t.”

“Right,” Ditzy snorted. “Because you’re not actually Captain Perfect who does every single bloody thing perfectly right so we should all just treat you like rubbish. Is that what you want?”

“I just…” Becker drew his lower lip between his teeth. “Connor was _different._ He was… He still made me laugh. He still cared, he still acted like we could get through this, all of us, and he wanted--” _To be friends,_ Becker thought, feeling as though his insides might rip apart. “I just don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this.” Waiting for the rest of them to drop, one by one. Watching them fall and not being able to do anything about it.

Ditzy shifted against the wall, turning and bracing his shoulder against it so he was angled towards Becker. He touched his fingers to the skin on the back of Becker’s hand. “Do you know what the worst thing you could do is? The absolute worst way to honour Connor’s memory? Keep on going like this. Give up. Act like nothing matters, like you don’t matter. Connor would never want that, not ever.”

Becker swallowed, feeling like even his breath was catching in his throat. “I know,” he said, and it seemed strangled, like he could hardly get even those two words out, and he didn’t think he’d been this close to crying since he’d broken his arm when he was seven.

But he didn’t cry. Men didn’t cry. Beckers didn’t cry.

“I know,” he said again, and it didn’t seem any easier.

Ditzy kissed him, pressing him back against the wall. “We can do the shagging bit now,” he said, murmuring it into Becker’s mouth, and Becker wanted to laugh because it was all just so stupid, stupid and ridiculous, but it still ached too much.

So he simply held onto Ditzy’s hips, pulling him in tighter, kissing him until he felt nearly lightheaded because it meant he wouldn’t think. They made it to a bed somehow, stumbling down the hall and ripping off clothes. The bed felt soft and bouncy beneath him and Becker realised he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been in one. 

No, he could. He hadn’t been in a bed since his own. Before.

Ditzy kissed his neck and Becker closed his eyes, letting everything fall away but the sensation of smooth skin beneath his hands and the hard, coiled strength of Ditzy against him. He was babbling, he could hear himself, soft strings of words and Ditzy’s name.

Becker wasn’t sure love existed any more, not in a world like this. He wasn’t sure it had ever existed, at least not for him.

He thought he might love Ditzy a little bit anyway.

**_ End _ **


End file.
